Harder, Faster
by electrakitty74
Summary: AngelxCollins smut. Warning: sexual content within. Don't read if you're too young or offended. This is what comes of reading eudaimon's stories and RPs. That girl really should be stopped!
1. Harder! Faster!

**Title: **Harder, Faster  
**Author:** Sarah  
**Feedback:** Love it, please leave it. . .positive or negative  
**Pairing: **Angel/Collins, of course  
**Word Count: **1,465  
**Rating: **NC-17  
**Genre: **Smut. It started out as smut with a purpose, but it got lost along the way  
**Summary: **Angel needs Collins to make her feel safe.  
**Notes: **I kinda need a whole program to go along with my process on this one, so instead I'll just say nothing repeatedly.  
**Special Thanks: **Where to start? I'd like to thank the Academy. . .no wait, I have a list. Thank you **eudaimon**,**joannespm**,**scotsinkilts**,**sflynn**, and**shillaire** for reading, betaing, and just in general encouraging and inspiring me.  
**Spoilers: **Nope.  
**Warnings: **Sex. And lots of it.  
**Disclaimer: **Oooh, if only I owned them!

He had her backed up against the front door, hands groping under her heavy Santa coat, her thin skirt, kissing her lips with bruising force.  
"Mmm," she managed to moan out into his mouth. He pulled back a little, looking into her eyes, her face flushed, lips swollen, breath coming in hard gasps. Beautiful.  
"What baby?"  
She swallowed a little, breathing hard. "Take . . . take me inside," she managed.  
His grin widened as he fumbled for the keys she held out to him. "Yes ma'am!"  
Leaning around her, he unlocked the door, her hands clutching his collar as if she might fall, kissing him wherever her lips happened to land. Once he'd worked the key and the door was open, she locked her lips with his, her tongue searching the inside of his mouth. The two of them stumbled into the dark apartment, holding each other up as they kissed, hands roaming the other's body.  
Somehow, he closed the door behind him with his foot, whispering "Bedroom?" between kisses. Awkwardly, she pointed in the direction, and he scooped her up, enjoying her surprised giggles, and carried her there, the kissing session resuming as soon as she got her bearings.  
He dropped her onto the bed and she smiled, panting softly, her dark eyes locking with his. She reached for the waistband of his pants and pulled herself up, never breaking eye contact. Her fingers wound around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him ardently. He responded in kind and their teeth clicked together as clumsily, fervently, they explored each other's mouth with lips and tongues. His hands strayed back up under her skirt, as she unbuckled her belt and shouldered her heavy coat to the floor. She began exploring his jaw, his neck, with her lips and tongue as his hands found the waistband of her tights and tugged on it questioningly. She nodded and he pulled down the tights, finding smooth satin panties underneath. Running his hand over them, he caressed the smooth, taut muscle of her ass, wondering if he dared to touch the skin beneath. His question was answered as she unbuttoned his pants, and slid her hands inside, cupping his ass. A moan escaped his lips.  
"What do you want baby?" he asked as soon as he could form words.  
"I . . . want . . . you," she whispered between kisses.  
He pushed her backward and onto the bed, climbing onto her kissing her all the while. Her hands continued to roam; his chest, his back, into his pants, pulling him closer as he ground his hips into her, certain now that he was free to do just as he wanted. She moaned and tried to wrap her legs around him, arching up into him, her tights and shoes just an obstacle.  
"What do you want me to do?" He asked, looking into her face, flushed beautifully, her eyes closed. She opened her eyes and fixed him with a gaze so solid, so meaningful; he would remember it to his dying day.  
"Fuck me," she answered.  
It was what he'd hoped to hear. Quickly he sat up, shedding his boots and his pants. She took the opportunity too and kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her tights and her sweater, leaving the skirt and satin panties for him to deal with. Turning around, he saw her there, nearly naked and smiled. "You're still wearing your shirt," she purred into his ear, sliding her legs around from behind him. He leaned back into her arms as she reached around and unbuttoned his outer shirt. Once it was unbuttoned enough, she slipped her hands underneath all the layers to his skin. Her touch almost burning him, she slid all three of his shirts off over his head, kissing and nibbling the side of his neck as she did so.   
"Do you have a-?" he asked, shyly.  
"Mmm," she answered, making it an affirmative. "Top drawer."  
He opened the nightstand she had indicated, fumbling now because she was still kissing and caressing him, and found the silver-wrapped condom and a bottle of lube. He opened the foil with his teeth and pulled it out, but his hands were shaking.  
"Let me," she said, her voice low in his ear. Gently, she took it from him, and expertly rolled it onto his cock, her hands sliding around and over him, enveloping him, twisting her hand and pumping him lightly. He groaned again and leaned back into her, enjoying her touch too much to move. When he did move, it was sudden and so unexpected that she cried out a little in surprise, but smiled in delight as he turned and crawled over her, forcing her back on the bed, a predatory look in his eye. He kissed her again, his hand sliding up under her skirt, glad she had left it on, though he was dying to get it off her, along with the satin panties underneath. He could feel how hard she was underneath it, and he ran his fingers over the thin satin fabric, feeling her shiver as he did. Sliding his hand up higher, he tugged on the elastic at the waist and felt her arch her hips slightly to allow him to slip them off. He took the opportunity and divested her of the rest of her clothing. Free now to touch her, he slid his hand up her flat stomach to her chest, feeling her skin respond to his touch. Quickly he grabbed the bottle of lube and prepped himself and her carefully, not wanting to hurt her. She arched her hips and wrapped her legs about him, moaning as he kissed her, slowly now, savoring the moment, and teasing her a little.  
"C'mon, honey, please," she whined against his lips.  
He slid into her, carefully, deliciously, waiting patiently for her body to accept his.  
"More," she moaned.  
"You ready?" He asked.  
"Yesss!"  
He pushed and slid all the way into her as she gasped, tightening her legs around him, pressing her calves into the backs of his thighs, trying to take in as much of him as she could.  
"You Ok?" he asked.  
"Fine. Jesus, just . . .agh!" Her words turned into a moan as he pulled out and pushed back into her.  
"That what you wanted, baby girl?" He asked, grinning.  
"Yes, don't stop!"  
He built up a rhythm slowly, pumping his hips, holding her waist with one hand. Feeling her hand on his, he looked into her eyes.  
"Harder," she growled.  
"Honey, I . . ."_ . . . don't want to hurt you_ he protested.  
Her legs tightened around him, holding him in a surprisingly strong grip. She raised one eyebrow at him. "Harder, I said."  
Her strength turned him on even further (though a moment ago, he would have said he was as horny as he'd ever been), and he could only comply with her wishes. He quickened his pace and the ferocity of his thrusts, listening to her moans grow louder and more intense. Her hand tightened on his on her waist, and she looked again at him.  
"Hold me harder," she said. "Unh, both hands. I want you to bruise me."  
"What? Sweetheart, I can't . . ."  
"Do it." She said, and meant it. "Wait." She unlocked her legs from around him and swung one in front of his face as he leaned back to let her, turning herself over beneath him. "Now," she said, face down, propped up on her elbows and the pillow. She took both his hands and placed them around her waist, pulling them tighter than was comfortable, nearly cutting off her own breath. He tried to loosen his grip, but she pulled on his hands, tightening them back to where she wanted them. "C'mon," she said in a low, dark voice, propping herself back up.  
_Holy shit,_ he thought, and started up again, his pace and ferocity building until he was back to the level she wanted. He could hear her strangled groans and moans and feel her building to a climax. He was reaching his too, and held her even tighter, earning a louder moan from her in the process. He felt her tighten around him, then release with a stream of Spanish curses issuing from her lips. He followed soon after, and they collapsed in a heap, breathing hard, gasping and sweating, a tangle of arms and legs.  
As soon as he had his breath back, he detangled one of his hands from hers and smoothed some strands of her damp wig from her face. Still panting, he kissed her temple.  
"What was that about, baby girl?"  
"Maybe I'll tell you someday." She replied breathlessly.


	2. Morning after

**Title: **There's got to be a morning after  
**Author:** Sarah  
**Feedback:** Love it, please leave it. . .positive or negative  
**Pairing: **Collins/Angel  
**Word Count: **542  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre: **fluff  
**Summary: **The morning after the night before. . .  
**Notes: **  
**Special Thanks:** Totally unbetaed, 'cause I'm just like that sometimes, but to everyone, you know I love you and you know why.  
**Spoilers: **nope, none  
**Warnings: **A little implied m/m sex, but nothing explicit, really.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, except my car and my new(ish) computer

Slowly, she awoke, first aware of the soreness in her muscles, then . . . Oh yes. She realized next that she was naked and that there was another body in the bed with her. Warmth pressed against her back. She'd been a little drunk the night before, but not enough to. . . She moved a little and caught sight of a brown hand thrown over her hips. She smiled as the events of the night before came flooding back. Her grin widened as she remembered _him_. He'd said . . . she'd . . . they'd . . . She sighed happily. _We._ It was the first time she'd allowed herself to think in terms of a collective . . . ever. She'd never been a _we_ before. It had been a long time, too, since she'd awakened naked and sore, even longer since the other body was still there in bed when she awoke. She turned over, facing him, touched his cheek gently. His eyelids fluttered open. A surprised look overtook his features too, seeing her.  
"'Morning," she murmured, biting her lip nervously, wanting to kiss him, waiting to see if he remembered what had happened the night before.  
"M. . .Morning," he stammered, smiling back at her. She reached over then, and placed her lips gently on his own, kissing him softly until she felt him respond, softly at first himself, and then with more vigor and passion, shifting his body, so that he lay on top of her. She returned his kisses, as they were given 'til finally both had to come up for air. Panting slightly she smiled as he stroked her hair. She rarely fell asleep in her wig, but last night, she'd been so worn out (_by him,_ she remembered, giggling slightly to herself) that she hadn't bothered to take it off. At some point in the night, it seemed to have fallen off and he was touching her own hair for the first time.  
"Like this," he muttered, pressing his lips back on hers, working his way down to her throat.  
"Mmmmm . . ." she agreed, tilting her head back. "Love this."  
He stopped kissing her, moving back up. When she opened her eyes, his face was right in front of them.  
"Merry Christmas," he said softly, kissing the bridge of her nose, pulling back to look into her face.  
She gazed back at him, running her fingers through his hair. "Merry Christmas," she replied, smiling.  
"You're beautiful," he murmured, bending to kiss the corner of her mouth.  
"No'm not," she replied, frowning.  
"Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."  
She grinned a little, crookedly "You must be still drunk, then."  
"No ma'am," he replied, earnestly. "Stone cold sober and looking at the most beautiful person I've ever seen."  
She smiled widely and let it fall out of her mouth before she thought: "I love you." Covering her mouth, she looked away, embarrassed.  
He removed her hand and kissed her gently but insistently. "I love you too."  
"You do?" she asked, hardly daring to look at him.  
"I do," he replied. "From the first moment I saw you."  
Smiling, she reached up and kissed his lips. She was just romantic enough to believe him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Lost things  
**Author:** Sarah  
**Feedback:** Love it, please leave it. . .positive or negative  
**Pairing: **Angel and Collins. . .again  
**Word Count: **1,043  
**Rating: **Umm. . .R, just for safety  
**Genre: **Angsty  
**Summary: **Angel finally explains herself.  
**Notes: **Sequel to Harder, Faster.

**Special Thanks: **Once again to the usual suspects. **eudaimon**,**joannespm**,**scotsinkilts**,**sflynn**, and**shillaire** for reading, betaing, and just in general encouraging and inspiring me.  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Warnings: **Discussions of rape, sex, prostitution  
**Disclaimer: **I own neither RENT nor Playing by Heart (can anyone spot the reference?)

Lost things came to him. When something small but important was lost, he merely had to look calmly, eventually he would find it. Or it found him, she could never be sure. He said it was because he looked, because he was patient, but she knew it was because he was magic. It was the same with her. He thought she had been the one to rescue him in that alleyway, but she believed with all her heart that she had been drawn to him; a lost thing, needing him to find her. She didn't need to be found; she needed _him_ to find her. There was a difference, she knew. It was subtle, but despite outward appearances, she was a creature of subtlety. That _he_ knew. A sigh, a glance, a twist of the lips, it all meant something with her, and the widening of an eye or the lift of an eyebrow spoke volumes to him.

_Which is why I should have known. _

But he did know. It was something in her, some inner melancholy, beneath her effervescent personality. He saw it right away. Saw something broken in her eyes the moment she first spoke to him. It was faint, and hidden, but he found it. Because he looked, because he was patient. That first night, when he had asked why she had been so insistent, so ardent, even then he'd realized it. She was lost, broken, and needed him. Needed him to find her, restore her trust: in humanity, in men. He hadn't asked her again what the broken thing was, why she needed him to hurt her physically. The bruises healed and he trusted she would tell him. The night she finally told him seemed like any other; he came home, made her dinner, and woke her gently with kisses:

"Angel-baby, I'm home."  
"Mmmph."  
"Not awake yet baby?" he teased, mouth mere inches from her ear. She smiled without opening her eyes at his breath tickling her.  
"No."  
"Well c'mon, sleepy girl," he murmured, pressing kisses into her neck. "It's time to eat."  
"Mmm-kay." She stretched, grinned, and offered him a kiss, which he happily accepted.

During dinner, her mood shifted, as it did from time to time. She became quiet, pensive. He knew from experience that the best way to handle her quiet moods was to leave her alone. If he pushed her, she would become reticent. If he left her alone, eventually she would talk to him.

"Honey. D'you remember that first night?"  
"Do I ever." He grinned at the memory and glanced at her, expecting to find a similar expression on her face. She merely looked pensive and more than a little sad. "What's wrong, babe?"  
"It's just . . . I've been thinking about that night and what made me do that a lot lately."  
"Yeah?" he asked softly, afraid that if he spoke loudly she'd stop talking.  
"Yeah," she replied, not meeting his gaze, sipping her tea. A long silence fell between them.  
It almost killed him, seeing her face, so uncharacteristically melancholy, and being unable to do anything about it. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she smiled again, but instead he just waited, warming his hands on his own mug of tea. Finally, she spoke.  
"Honey, I'm sure you know that before I met you, before all this, I had . . . something of a different life."  
He nodded. She'd never spoken of it before, but he had his suspicions.  
"I had to make money somehow, and well, I . . . I . . . "  
He inhaled sharply, wanting to say something, to keep _her_ from saying anything which might hurt her, but she lay her hand on his arm and stopped him.  
"I'm sure you can guess what I did." She continued, stronger now. "There was more than one occasion where it went bad. One night, I got in a fight with a guy about paying. Luckily, I had muscle to back me up and I got my money." She paused a moment, gathering her courage and looked into his eyes for the first time since she'd started speaking. The pain he saw there was almost too much for him to bear. "The next night, he came back to find me. He said that I wasn't worth that much, but since he'd paid, he wanted his money's worth. I was alone and he . . ." She paused again, and he hoped against hope that he wasn't going to hear what he suspected. Her eyes remained dry as she continued, but he found himself beginning to tear up. "I was afraid of sex for a long time after that. I was almost glad when I got my HIV results. Meant I had to quit. Before that night with you, I hadn't had sex with a man who . . . wasn't paying for almost three years. Hadn't had it at all in more than a year. When I met you, I knew you were different. You were the one. I couldn't control myself and it was breathtaking. I needed for you to hurt me though. I couldn't explain it then, but I've thought a lot about it since and I guess I needed to know that I could trust you enough to hurt me and for it to be safe. Does that make any sense?" She looked up at him with her huge eyes and he could no longer hold it back. He wept openly, pulling her forehead to his.  
"Yeah, baby. In a weird way it really does." He watched her for a minute, seeing the tension melt from her body. "Did it work?" he asked, softly. "Is it better now?"  
She smiled faintly. "Yes," she replied, in a voice so quiet he could hardly hear her. "It did. It is. I don't know why, but it worked."

They say that the thing about falling in love is that you learn so much about the other person, and so quickly. And in turn you learn about yourself; what it is about you that is so lovable. Through him, she learned that she was beautiful. He learned that he was magic.


End file.
